Backstage
by Allieturtle222
Summary: Puck, a not so famous singer, wants nothing more than for his husband to be at his concert. But Kurt's late, or is he?


**A/N: **I had a prompt, it said something like you go to a concert and you know a guard and he lets you go meet the band backstage, and, well, I changed it and came up with this.

Puck's fingers were cold as he strummed the strings on his guitar, humming along with the song in his head, closing his eyes, hearing the cheers of the crowd just outside the curtain. "Mr. Puckerman." Puck cracks open his eyes, staring at the teen before. A clipboard was held tightly in his hands, his dark hair sticking to his face with sweat, his eyes darting around.

"Ryan?" Puck asked, cocking his head to the side, wondering how many times he had to tell the teen to call him Puck.

"You have twenty minutes, Mr. Puckerman, sir." The teen bit his lip, rolling on the balls of his feet. Puck frowned, stopping the notes he was playing. He looked at Ryan curiously.

"Is Kurt here yet?" He asked. The teen shook his head, looking at his feet. So that was why he was being so awkward, he didn't want to have to answer that question. "He said he'd be here, he's going to be here."

"Sir-"

"Puck."

"Yes sorry, Puck, with all do respect, what if he doesn't show up?" Puck raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a questioning stare. The teenager squirmed. "I mean, I'm sure your husband keeps his promises, but sometimes things get in the way." Puck looked at his feet, thinking.

It's only Puck's third concert, but him and his band have been together for three years. At first they played either non-paying or low-paying gigs while Puck worked at a coffee shop to pay rent. Kurt was an intern at a fashion company and money was tight, but Puck still saved every penny and dime to buy Kurt an engagement ring. It took longer after that to save up for the actual wedding. During that time Puck's band got found out, and Kurt got promoted.

They've been married for a couple months now. Puck was going to sing his new song- a song he wrote for Kurt- tonight, and Kurt promised to be here.

"He'll be here," Puck said, looking at Ryan. The teen bit his lip, looking around. "Is there anything else?"

"It's just- never mind." The teen scurried off. Puck watched him go with an amused look, shaking his head.

?

"I'm late, Mercedes. I promised Noah I'd be there by now and I'm still a block away," Kurt said into the phone, hurrying down the crowded New York street. Mercedes laughed into the phone, taking in a long breath.

"I'm sure he wont be mad, as long as you show up on time, how long do you have?" Kurt passed a couple people they looked at him with angry faces as he ran past them. Kurt didn't have time to care.

"Twenty minutes," Kurt said, taking a sharp left and panting slightly. "Okay, I guess I miss judged how far away I was, I'm here." He heard the girl laugh again.

"Have fun Kurt. Good bye."

"Bye."

He hung up his phone, pulling the door opened. He nodded at George, The security guard. He smiled. "You're late."

"I know," Kurt said, embarrassment written on his face. George pointed to the back and Kurt made his way, down a long hallway and to a door where a very unfamiliar guard stood.

"I can't let you pass," The man said. "Unless you have a back stage pass." Kurt gave him a sideways look.

"Who are you?" He asked, his eyebrows knitted together. "You're not Micheal."

"Oh, I see, you're one of those stalker types. You've probably followed the band since day one, became obsessed with one of them. Micheal warned me about your type." Kurt stared at him opened mouth, did he just call him a stalker? Oh no he didn't!

"Stalker? Okay, listen here, I've not had the best day, first, Megan, the bratty little intern, spilled coffee all over my sketches, then Olivia didn't send out the invitations for my boss' banquet, making me late to be here. So I want you to take your on sale, fake leather shoes, and move out of my way." The man crossed his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes at Kurt.

"Leave, or I'll have to call security," Bad-taste-in-shoe's said.

"Oh, please do," Kurt said back, knowing George would let him pass. The man grabbed the radio that was clipped on his tacky uniform.

"Ryan, we have a problem here," He said. Kurt glared, Ryan was not George, Ryan was Puck's awkward but nice band assistant.

"Take care of it, I have to get the show ready, and Puck's freaking because he only has ten minutes and his husbands not here," Ryan's voice rang out. It was fuzzy.

"I guess I'll have to deal with you. Honestly, who knew stalker's would be so... ugly." Kurt's mouth fell open and his fist balled at his sides. He really did not need this stupid little boy right now. "And what in the world are you wearing?"

"Some of us of a fashion sense, unlike you. And I suggest you let me pass, or I'll have to get serious," Kurt shot back, trying to remain calm.

"I can't leave this door, or else we would be serious. I thought I'd give you a chance before I called for help." Kurt had enough. He whipped out his phone, typing furiously into his screen.

**Noah, Get out here now. **

He clicked send and looked up at the man. "It just got serious," He growled, "And in a few minutes, you'll regret everything you just said to me."

"I'm so scared," The man said, sarcasm leaking from his voice. The door behind him whipped open, and Puck stood in the door, his eyes darting between the two men.

"Whats going on out here?" He asked. He wanted to run and throw his arms around Kurt, kiss him all over. He was overwhelmed with joy that Kurt made it. But Kurt looked seriously PO. Ryan came up, staring questioningly at Kurt's appearance. "Yeah, what's the problem?"

"Nothing, it's just he wont leave." The guard said, guesturing to Kurt.

"Noah, he called me a stalker. And I think he wants to beat me up. AND he called me ugly, Noah, _ugly_." Kurt's tone was still laced with pissed off, but it also sounded hurt. Puck frowned, walking out from behind the guard and wrapping his arms around Kurt, who buried his face in his chest. The guard's eyes bugged out as he watched. Ryan was shaking his head.

"I think it's safe to assume you're fired," The teen said. "Kurt's Puck's husband, and you insulted him."

"Husband? I wasn't told to be looking for a husband," The guard looked worried. His face turned red. Kurt's head popped up and he sent the guard an icy glare. "I didn't mean what I said, I just wanted him to go away."

Ryan ran his fingers through his hair, sighing. "We don't have time for this, Puck you're on in five minutes." Puck rubbed his hands up and down Kurt's back.

"You get to hear my song," He whispered. "I wrote it for you. And I promise after the show you can go off on Henry." The guard, Henry, Kurt assumed, looked at Puck with a scared expression. Kurt's head jerked up. He peered at Puck with tear rimmed eyes.

"Really?" Puck laughed at the way his face lit up when he heard he could really go off on him. Puck nodded. "Okay, go be a rock star, it's insanely hot, and Henry" Kurt turned to him, glaring. "Do I look like a stalker to you?"

Ryan walked past Henry, whispering. "Better start sucking up to him now, if you want to save your job."

"Um, No, y-you don't. Um." Kurt turned back to Puck, laying his hand on his cheek.

"Go a head," He said, leaning up and kissing Puck. "I'll watch you sing," Kurt whispered against his lips, flicking Henry off behind Puck's back.


End file.
